Reflection
by hawktakesflight
Summary: They say they see you in your reflections. Falco reflects on his life, Brawl, and a forgetful teammate. And at the same time, some Smashers gather to remember, to laugh, to cry; and to admire the brilliance of stars. T just to be safe. Thanks to R&Rers.
1. Reflection

**Hello all.**

**This will be the second-last installment of the **_**Days of Our Lives**_** arc. So this fic takes place in the same timeline as the others. I've actually planned for this to be a multichapter fic but I thought that it'd be better this way. **

**I don't play Star Fox or anything, and I don't know anything about Falco's past, and furthermore apparently it isn't really confirmed in the canon either. Anyway, I won't be mentioning it much, and I hope I don't go off any established facts or anything.**

_**Reflection**_** will be slightly different from the rest of my other fics, the difference will be obvious enough. I've been itching to try out a new style, and hopefully it'll turn out all right. Thanks for reading; please do leave your reviews and criticism, I'll thank you for it –**

**hawk**

**---**

Reflection

Mah name's Falco.

Falco Lombardi.

Best sharp-shooter in an Arwing, even better than the fabled Fox McCloud himself, and he admits that.

Oh, does he admit that. And I'm not boasting, but I'll have ya know I'm the best pilot this side of the Lylat System. Actually, on _both_ sides of the Lylat System, thank ya very much.

…an' if ya haven't heard of me, ya probably been livin' under a rock for the past couple a years. Brawl's been fun, yeah, but wait 'till you see a day in the life in Lylat. Just thinkin' about it makes me homesick, an' I don't get attached easy, too.

…all right, all right. Let's start from the beginnin'. How about that time I got Fox to buy me a free drink?

---

'twas a normal day in the Lylat System that day.

Yup, that meant a dogfight with Star Wolf.

There were clashes, bursts of gunfire and such, and I saw McCloud take a couple a' hits, but I emerged unscathed without so much as a scratched Arwing propeller. An' Arwing's don't _have_ propellers.

Anyway, not to bore ya with details of a very long, yet very successful – of course, 'coz I was involved – mission, we fended off Wolf and his gang. Kicking back and relaxing, I radioed Fox over our communication system.

"Ya okay, McCloud?"

"Yeah, which is more than I can say for my Arwing," came the reply amid some static. I glanced out of my windshield, seeing Fox's Arwing pass by. It was beaten up, sure, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Looked like that vulpine was still better in a Landmaster than in an Arwing.

While I was escorting his Arwing to the Great Fox's hangar – man that hangar's huge – I got pretty bored, like I normally do whenever I see McCloud tryin' to do stuff. That fox moves so slowly in an Arwing ya couldn't get 'im to move faster than a slow trot unless ya set his _tail _on fire.

So to spice things up a little, and to put up a show for Fox to see and admire my skills, I did a couple of loops and spirals and – yes – a barrel roll, I admit. Very well executed, might I add.

But, as I was enjoyin' myself, I came too close to the Great Fox. Nearly got a scratch on it, too, but I saw it at the last moment and pulled away in the nick of time. To tell ya the truth, I breathed in relief, 'coz I knew that Hare would give me a tickin' off if I so much as touched the Great Fox's underbelly with a feather.

Fox's voice broke into by earphones. "Cutting it pretty close, there, weren't you?" he teased. Yeah, coming from the guy who can't fly an Arwing straight! The nerve of tha' fox. I opened my beak to retort, but right on schedule, Peppy joined into the battle of words.

"Lombardi! You'd better watch your hide, or else –" "Yeah, got it," I nonchantly responded, reaching over and flicking a switch. Immediately, Peppy's irritating voice dimmed down, then cut out altogether with a burst of static.

There was a slight pause, and then Fox drew his breath. "Well, he's gonna kill you."

I twitched. It wasn't the first time that hare, fox – or anyone else – had peppered me with death threats. "Ah, no biggie," I shrugged, although he couldn't see it. "He can't afford to execute his best pilot, can he now?"

Fox's voice came tauntingly over the com. "Yeah, yeah, of course." Here he put on that annoying posh accent he always used to irritate me, the voice smooth and low through the speakers. "I'll carve it on your headstone. 'Here lies Falco Lombardi, Lylat's finest pilot and its most talkative birdbrain, killed in action because he couldn't keep his big beak shut.'."

I grunted, flicking a wing through my head feathers idly. I could just picture him making his little 'air quotes' as he sniggered out my future epitaph.

"Yeah, sure. And I'll carve yers once Slippy realizes that ya're responsible for that scratch in the Great Fox. "

Here I was rewarded by a sudden gagging sound over the intercom – that would be the great Fox McCloud doing a double take and gawking, and probably going rabid and turning white in his furry face, and then low muttered curses.

I smirked.

And then, once we landed, he bought me a drink, with the warning that the conversation never happened.

Until Peppy yelled at us to get a move on, we spent the rest of the hour lounging about, sipping from our cups and laughing at other peoples' weird hairdos. Strange, isn't it, coming from people who continually slick their feathers and fur with grease and sweat and Arwing motor oil.

Yup, those were good times.

---

That's why I like Brawl. I'm a social guy, as ya can probably tell from mah good looks. Captain Falcon can't hold a candle to _this_ falcon, I'm the real deal.

So I was steppin' into the Mansion on the first day for Brawl, and seeing the reflection of the light off the newcomers' wide-open eyes, shaking paws and hands and whatnot with the others, lookin' forward for matches, ah, those were good times. Ya could see the excitement on their faces and all – and truth be told that same excitement was in me, just that I learned to keep things in.

Well, we had great time, the lot of us, I think. We've had our fair share of funny moments, awkward moments and such, but I think it was a pretty good time and I enjoyed myself in Brawl.

Even after that Tabuu incident, where the stereotypical bad guy tries to take over the worlds for some reason or the other, I think that helped us a little. I dunno, I for one had lotsa fun blowing things up and wreckin' his pretty Dark Cannons. Too much fun, on hindsight. Maybe I cawed too much or bragged just a bit about my awesome skills in Tabuu's face, but hey, it was fun to rub it in while it lasted.

But anyway.

Just the other day Fox, Wolf and I had a three-way brawl, just for old time's sake. That cretin's mellowed much since we've first met, but ah well, I guess I'm not one to judge. But I'm not complaining. Fox and Wolf still don't seem to get along much anyhow.

'twas just like old times when we had melee battles, Blaster shots flyin' everywhere and Cornerian reflectors bouncin' projectiles and stuff all over the small Lylat Cruise stage. Ha, fun times. 'specially when I was winnin'.

Which was, of course, all the time.

I chose that stage when Fox wasn't looking – both he and Wolf thought it was on Random.

Truth is, I really like that stage. It's the closest to flying I've experienced in Brawl; on the back of some "cruiseship" somewhere and somewhen in the starry backdrop of Lylat. I'm not sure exactly where it is – the dumb Hands nevar did say – but I think it's a hologram, because ya don't die when ya fall off the_ plane. _In the middle of _space_.

Usually fatal in real life, I think.

Anyway. Even if it was an illusion or hologram or somethin', I liked it. Was nice, and was good to see Lylat sky again, even if it wasn't real. And being able to fight alongside Wolf and Fox, now that was something.

That night was special, 'coz for a treat we turned on the Smash Ball.

Ever got that feeling when ya finally get it? It's a sense of unimaginable power, and suddenly all yer current difficulties and pain melt away, even if it's for a short period of time. I sometimes hold on to that power a little longer, partially to feel that simple feel-good factor, watchin' the remarkable fiery-red radiance from the Ball glow all over yer feathers and get ya blood pumpin' real good.

An' partially to watch the others scurry away from me.

Landmasters rolling all around, doing – yes – barrel rolls, flying a little and such. I'm still a little miffed that I didn't get an Arwing, but a Landmaster's better than Fox's old rusty scooter, I always say. And mine flies for quite a bit – I could almost kid myself it was a really clunky Arwing.

Really, really clunky. Plus it weighed more than double. And had a gigantic cannon stickin' out of one end.

Regardless, it was a fun match.

I still insist it wasn't me. I bet ya that Fox didn't wake up early enough that morning to deflea himself. Even the day after the Brawl, Rukario apparently found him leanin' against the wall outside, fast asleep. Of all places… that Pokémon probably got himself into a right shock when he saw Lylat's finest blockhead droolin' against the wall.

Or he probably just forgot.

And then during that Brawl, he just spread it to the two of us. Right like that. I don't know which of the few hundred kicks he hit me with that did the trick, but I guess one or two was enough to get them bloodsuckin' cretin used to the taste of feathers. Same goes for Wolf.

And it was a twenty-minute Brawl, too…

And falcons don't get fleas! When will those two ever learn? Only after they spread it to me… urk, now I know why it's so irritating. Was scratching my _everywhere_. Everywhere. And that Fox still dared to accuse _me_ of spreading it to _him_, hah. Wolf wasn't too pleased, either. Woke up in the morning with a head full of lice.

And to top it all off, we dragged that unsuspecting Rukario into it, too. Didn't know them Pokémon could get fleas, too. Or that that Snake carried around a bottle of Flea-B-Gone, wherever he got _that_ from… Ah, ya learn something new every day.

…Perhaps it was for the best.

Maybe that Fox felt on some subconscious level that he had to make that particular Brawl memorable. I still fail to see how introducing yer avian teammate to fleas count as somethin' nice. Was still combing my tail feathers free from dead fleas. Maybe it's a fox thing. Or maybe he wanted to share his joy to the world, ha. But I still appreciate the effort…

…'coz that was the last proper Brawl we had together.

Trust McCloud to make things special.

---

Maybe it was the high-adrenaline life of Arwing flying and shooting and stuff, but I'd always thought I knew how I'd go. I wasn't going to die on the ground like some earth-bound cretin, or unspectacularly, getting around in a crutch or – no – becoming like Peppy. For all the many good things about that Hare, he just can't do a barrel roll.

No way, not me; not Falco Lombardi.

I'd go in a blazing burst of glory in the sky.

I always expected a fight of astronomical proportions to flare up in Lylat, with Star Fox caught in its center. Then we'd fight, and have a meteor shower break out in the middle of the most massive dogfight ever recorded in history, Arwings and Wolfens and who-cares-what other kinda craft shootin' different flavours of death lasers, glidin' and weavin' in and out of their ranks, and exploding in remarkable, respectable balls of flame against a backdrop of starry Lylat space.

We'd save it in the end, just like we always do.

But if I'd go, I'd go in one of those fights. Shielding McCloud, I suppose, just like I seem to be doin' more and more often. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I keep replaying scenes from the imaginary movie reel in my head, about my rather disturbing but immensely glorifying death. Don't judge me.

I'd block McCloud's Arwing at the last minute, and take the last shot from the leader of the rebellion – whether it was Wolf, Andross, or Andross' _mom _– hey, anything could happen. And then, I'd pilot my smoking Arwing into his gigantic aircraft, and sit back and smirk as both of our craft start to disintegrate into pretty 'lil bits, and then blow us both into oblivion and into history.

Yeah, believe it or not, I fantasize about the perfect death. Not quite all normal up there, but yeah.

Get involved in the mother of all dogfights, get involved in the father of all explosions, save the life of my teammates an' then some, an' then die in an awesome sphere of fire.

…Too bad life – or death – doesn't always work out as we've dreamt or planned.

---

So that's me, Falco.

Falco Lombardi.

Best sharp-shooter in an Arwing, even better than the fabled Fox McCloud himself, and he admits that.

Yeah, an' on both sides of the Lylat System too, and don't ya go forgetting that.

One bad thing about Brawl and such is that I never really got to fly again. Ya see, I was all right brawlin', firin' off Blaster shots and managin' to toast Wolf a couple of times, but in the end I'm only at home in the cockpit of an Arwing, slowly cruising amongst the stars and occasionally engaging in a little dogfight.

The thing about it is that it's free space, all open and all. Ya look out of the windshield and ya see the entire sight beyond ya, stars all around and nothing but empty wastes of space and maybe a planet or a hunk of rock here and there – I've never told Fox – but those sights never cease to amaze me. I guess that's why I prefer to spend all my time in the air, because it's just too beautiful.

Yeah, ya heard me.

And another thing. That Fox, never got his head in the clouds, ironically enough. Prefers to stay down-to-earth, rarely peeks outside of the Great Fox's windows or leaves his Landmaster. Too afraid to get his pretty fur in a mess, that's what I think.

But there's one thing one can say about the great McCloud, and that's that he's right forgetful.

Once he nearly forgot Krystal's birthday, could ya believe that? Peppy and I had to quickly scrape up something for a surprise party, Slippy got a cake, and Fox had to pretend and go along with the party, or Krystal would right scratch his eyeballs out if she'd known the truth. Hah, that vulpine was stutterin' and nervous for the entire thing. Took all I had from cawin' out with laughter; but then, if I did the game would be up.

On second thoughts, maybe I should have just have laughed, right out loud instead of bolting into the Great Fox's toilets – it would have made for some interesting times when confused Krystal finally figured out what was going on, then mauling Fox and leaving his bloody entrails all alon' the corridors, followed immediately by the immensely –

I sure hope Fox and Krystal don't find this.

…and another time he forgot where he docked was going. Just left and went a-wandering on his thunderin' Landmaster, and forgot the route back. It took Peppy and Slippy feeding the poor fellow coordinates for the rest of the journey back, and it was a good thing his Landmaster didn't run out of fuel, because he was one lost mammal. Took him a good long time to find his way across half that planet, he did.

When he finally made his way back to the Great Fox, Peppy told me that he could've mapped out the entire planet based on "The Eminent and Groundbreaking Travels of Fox McCloud", boldly going into cracks and valleys and wrong paths no one ever went before. 'Twas the day I found out beet red didn't go well with that Fox's brown fur, but that only gave me more reason to laugh that time.

Fox was so irritated, he swiped at the metallic corridor with his claws out – and blamed the scratch on me. Me! Slippy didn't believe it, of course – since it's pretty hard to make damage on metal with feathers – but he never really found out who did it. McCloud swore me to secrecy on that one, since the toad would slit his throat if he found out. Ah well.

That's one secret I'll take to my grave.

Good times.

One last thing. Fox an' I are – were – best pals – well, to me, at any rate. Never did have much close friends or anyone I could trust – no thanks to how I grew up, not exactly in th' most clean part of town – but that guy McCloud by far came the closest. In all my years of flying in and out of Star Fox I never really found anyone quite like him.

I guess it's hard to find such a fella' like him. Take it from me – I've grown up in a rough patch of town, and there's not much honour amongst thieves. Funnily enough, I suppose that's why I didn't fit in all that well with Star Fox, because they were such good friends.

And that Fox was the best one of them all.

When I saw him in the reflection of Wolf's Landmaster that last Brawl, I suddenly realized how much we've all changed. 'fer better or worse, I dunno, but even though even he's not stayed the same, he's still… well, pretty good for this dreamin', flyin' falcon from the streets.

Even though if he wasn't the best with rememberin' stuff.

We didn't think much of it then, of course. It was something said for fun, just joking, a laugh between friends – a precious laugh. Ya dumb fox – after that Krystal incident ya still so forgetful? Tsk, tsk, McCloud, ya never do learn, don't ya?

Still, if anything, I'm a little amused, a little regretful, and just a little bit disappointed, my dear friend. Even at this level of events, this kind of situation, ya still forgot something.

…you never did remember what we agreed for my headstone.

Ya forgetful fox.

---

_Here lies Falco Lombardi_

_Lylat's finest pilot__ and friend_


	2. Stars

**Hello all.**

**This will be the last fic for the **_**Days Of Our Lives **_**arc. A problem I've realized when writing **_**Reflection **_**is that I can't really link it to the rest of the arc for fear of confusing newer readers – I hope I do have some – actually, all seven fics might have been better off as a larger 47-chapter one. Too late for that now.**

**I strongly suggest you read at least **_**Days of Our Lives**_** before this last chapter. Of course, reading through the entire arc is preferred, but if you don't like my style of writing so be it, I hope you'll find something more to your taste elsewhere. No hard feelings.**

**So with this, the arc will finally come to a close, and I'll take a break from writing for a while. It's been my first foray into fanfic-writing, and I'm honored to have so many kind reviewers and readers. Do look out for the upcoming murder-mystery **_**Cheers**_**, I promise it'll be a better effort.**

**My gratitude goes out to all those who have comment****ed, reviewed, alerted or faved. Many thanks to Fantasy Girl, Sir Starlll, Froggiecool, Gerti, Pikachu127, BY021, Xainagal, Diabowserker, Rhenroh, negative panda, Sugar Baby Cresselia, inubaka07, jade-song, Lord of Darkrai, Coyote 71, Raidoni, Espolchu and Kyuu333. If I've missed out anyone…**

**And also, I owe a big debt of gratitude to lupyne, Shadow Blues, NinjaSheik, Souldin and Dusk-N-Dawn for following me around for so long – thanks for your support, critiques and encouragement; you've really made my short stay here at FF very, very worth it.**

**Of course, to you, for reading. And not to bore you any further with outpourings of appreciation, please do enjoy.**

**With many thanks,**

_**hawk**_

**---**

Stars

Wind silently descended upon the Mansion's Roof, circling it and picking up little fallen leaves and debris in its path. With inquisitive hands the wind stirred them around, causing the dried leaves to come to life, dancing and twirling, floating dreamily across the rooftop.

The dance of the leaves was watched intently by a small rodent-like being, his eyes wide as he watched the slow waltz of brown and gold across the Roof. Almost as if they were aware of his presence, the leaves made their way over to him, serenading him, circling him gently, the wind caressing his short fur. Pikachu craned his head, watching the slow dance of leaves around him, until the wind decided it was time, snatching the leaves away and whisking them into the air.

Pikachu blinked, continuing to watch the leaves ascend higher and higher, until they were all but lost from sight. Snatched suddenly into the sky.

The rooftiles clattered as he moved, but the sound no longer scared him. He remembered the times when he was a Pichu, not daring to even touch a trembling tile on the roof for fear that it would dislodge or hurt him. Or worse still, if the wind would pick up his light Pichu body and hurl him over the edge of the roof.

But even as a Pikachu he was timid.

Well, not anymore. Pikachu bravely stepped out onto the roof. Even with his light weight, the tiles still clacked loudly beneath his paws, shaking slightly from his presence. Pikachu used to imagine the worst; the clacking tiles as hostile Houndoom barking – but now it sounded almost soothing, like old friends welcoming a long-lost acquaintance.

---

_Pikachu remembered his first trip to the roof. As a Pichu,__ he was naturally curious; but his first – and last – trip involved a very large gust of wind and a telekinetically-powered rescue team, and so naturally he never went again. But after evolving, he remained timid and intimidated by his first encounter, and so decided never to risk it ever again._

_Until one lonely night._

_It was the kind of night when no one should be up and awake. It was black as darkest pitch outside the Mansion, and Pikachu's hackles rose all the way up his back as the wind buffeted against the Mansion's windows. Settling down for the night, Pikachu was all ready to enter the sweet world of dreams, until –_

_There__ was a soft tap, followed by another. And another. Soon it had grew into a veritable orchestral rhythm of taps and faint crashes, usually much too soft for anyone else to hear. Pikachu winced, feeling the double-edged nature of his gift of superior hearing, and cautiously pushed his door open._

_What possessed him to scout for the source of the sound, Pikachu could not say. It was almost as if it was slightly hypnotic in its nature, reaching out to Pikachu's subconscious and pulling at his little heart._

_After a while of pattering around, Pikachu located the stairs to the Rooftop once again. It was a long time since he had seen it, but it still remained as musty and hidden as ever. Somehow, even though he had grown physically bigger, the staircase did not seem to diminish, still standing tall and defiant._

_Yet the sound__s definitely came from above, through the trapdoor that was the exit to the Roof. Pikachu shivered involuntarily. Which out-of-their-mind Smasher would choose to rattle the tiles at this unearthly hour…_

_Nervously, Pikachu placed a paw on the first step._

_Nothing happened. Satisfied that the stairs would neither crumble or swallow him whole, Pikachu leaped onto the first step on all fours, then progressed rapidly all the way up, his paws pattering loudly on each step. The first couple of steps were cleared with no problem, but the Pokémon stared at the final step that led outside into the Roof proper._

_With determination in his features, he slipped the goggles he had had as a Pichu over his eyes, the blue goggles immediately giving the Pokémon a sense of security and a wave of warmth. Pikachu gathered up his courage and broke the barrier that he as a Pichu never really managed to; bracing himself and leaping forward with his eyes closed._

_He opened them to see the Roof in all its naked glory – or was that emptiness? _

_No one was there. Stepping forward, he examined the tiles that had frightened him so as a Pichu. It still did, but it no longer looked so unfriendly. But the wind increased, the tiles rattling ominously – and all he got for his labour was a leaf blown straight into his face, knocking him backwards back towards the Mansion proper._

_Convinced that __the wind was the guilty party, Pikachu put the incident out of his mind and continued on his carefree life at the Mansion. However, a couple of days after the ugly Assist Pokémon Trainer-Lucario incident, the rattlings started up again._

_Curious, Pikachu decided to pursue the matter to its end. However, he hadn't had the courage to work up for quite a long time, the incidents continuing for months on end, Pikachu always falling asleep to the soft rhythmic drumming from the roof._

_One night when it happened, Pi__kachu finally decided to act; silently making his way up to the roof, the stairs this time proving to be much less of an obstacle – even though it still sent shivers up his spine when confronted with the last one._

_Silently peeking out over the rim of the exit, Pikachu found his answer._

_The tiles were clacking and the wind was blowing alright, but the main cause of it was a dancing blue figure. Lucario completed his training regimen, blue Aura fire a-flaring around his paws as he swirled. And as if on cue, he halted mid-turn to stare directly at Pikachu, his red eyes linking with Pikachu's own__ ruby ones._

_Startled, Pikachu stepped back, but Lucario'__s eyes immediately softened somewhat. It was an almost unnoticeable gesture, but the fellow Pokémon spotted it nonetheless._

_---_

On hindsight, the Roof wasn't that scary a place. After all, look where he was now – on its edge, resting on the very tiles that used to send him scurrying to the warmth of the Mansion.

Since that day, Pikachu had never asked Lucario to accompany him to the Roof, no matter how their relationship had warmed up over time. To him, the Roof still held a sense of the forbidden, of the scary, and Pikachu didn't have the guts to conquer it back then.

Lucario would have been proud of him now, and not for the first time Pikachu wished that the other Pokémon would visit the Roof once in a while.

Pattering on the steps made Pikachu prick up his ears and quickly snap backwards. For a moment reminded of how Lucario would have probably felt that night as Pikachu crept towards the Roof, he pushed the thought away as the shadows fell away, revealing a few Smashers clambering up.

The kid Smashers saw Pikachu, waving to him. Scampering over to them, the rodent Pokémon nuzzled into Nana's smooth parka, with the rest of the Smashers standing or squatting around them. Popo playfully tapped Pikachu's head with his mallet, the rodent squirming and trying to gnaw at its wooden handle.

Amid the soft laughter of the children, Lucas allowed himself to plop onto the Roof, kicking back and looking at the sky.

After a while, the other Smashers followed suit, sprawling into rested positions on the roof. Pikachu chattered away with the Climbers, while the Earthbound boys and Toon Link admired the night.

Pulling out an odd-shaped instrument, Toon Link began to whistle a tune, the soft and soothing melody caressing the Smashers' ears. Just as it did, a small gust of wind kicked up, becoming a cocoon of invigorating air as it wrapped itself around them. They breathed in deeply, many closing their eyes, as they took in the cool, crisp air, which reminded them of Spring.

---

_The Ice Climbers pushed open the double doors, the other kid Smashers following their lead. Walking out in the Garden Grounds, it was __just the beginning of spring, and a new layer of grass had covered the ground. The kids, instead of frolicking in the grass or playing an enthusiastic game involving running and hammers and Lucas' Rope Snake, made straight for a shadowy grove in the corner of the Garden._

"_Hello, Lucario." Nana plopped herself down on the grass, stretching her legs slightly. Beside her, Popo did the same, setting down his mallet by his side. Toon Link and the Earthbound boys sat, too, Lucas __wielding a small shovel in his hands._

"_We've ran out of Oran berries, and new stock isn't coming in any time soon." Popo fiddled a little with the tin of berries he was holding in his mittens. The kids looked up, as if expecting an answer from the Pokémon. To be honest, any answer would have been good, even to see his familiar face look up from a meditation session with a slightly exasperated look._

_But t__he gravestone didn't respond._

"_So here, we're planting a berry…" The kid Smashers scrambled to their feet, running behind the headstone. Lucas picked up his little spade and started to carve out a little niche some way behind the headstones, with Toon Link and Ness peering over his shoulders, before Nana dropped the berry in._

"…_so that we'll have a berry tree…" Toon Link and Ness pushed up the earth that Lucas had dug up, filling in the hole and making a tiny hill of dirt. While Toon Link tried to wipe his hands on his tunic, Popo evenly flattened the hill with a gentle touch from his hammer._

"…_and have more Oh-ran berries in the future…" "It's _Oran_ berries," Ness whispered, eliciting a round of soft chuckles. They stepped back in front of the headstones, looking proudly at the little mound of earth that represented their buried fruit._

_As they did so, there was a sudden change. A light wind blew past, slowly becoming stronger until it was a gentle breeze. It ran about them, ruffling their heads and circling them, a rare, refreshing aura; as if it was__ giving them thanks for what they had done. In unison, they closed their eyes, allowing the cool breeze to softly touch their cheeks._

_Later, as they made their way up the steps back into the Mansion, Nana turned to Popo. "How long does a Pokémon tree take to grow?" Popo shrugged. "Do I look like a Pokémon to you?" His companion playfully batted him over the head with her hammer as the kids disappeared behind the door._

---

_Thud._

At the sudden sound of a footstep immediately behind them, the kid Smashers jumped up in fright and surprise. Lucas gave a yelp, while Nana instinctively grabbed Pikachu with one hand. In a single, fluid movement, she picked up her mallet from the ground, swinging it in front of her in a well-practiced stroke, yelling and screwing her eyes shut.

The mallet collided head-on with a shadowy figure, giving a satisfying _thunk_. The sheer impact sent the figure stumbling to the side, tripping and sprawling across the floor, emitting a familiar yelp of pain.

Nana froze in place, her hammer still lifted up, and still clutching Pikachu tightly. The Pokémon himself was surprised, but now peered over her parka to look at their assailant.

Nana's eyes went wide.

"Uh… Mr. McCloud?..."

Groaning, Fox sat up, rubbing the side of his muzzle with a paw and holding his head in another. "That hurt, you know?" As the kid Smashers rushed over to him, babbling words of apologies, Fox raised a paw to wave them off. Chuckling slightly, he rose, still scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"Not good enough," a second voice broke their thoughts. The kid Smashers snapped around, weapons at the ready, only to see the mercenary Snake whip out from behind his cardboard box. "Not silent enough," he added, the hint of a smile starting to form on his lips.

Fox stretched, yawning, making sure that his jaw still worked. Snapping it shut, he grinned sheepishly at the spy. "I'm still workin' on it. But these kids are sharp," he added, patting the hood of Nana's parka.

In a few short minutes, the group settled back on the Roof. While the kids continued to amuse themselves, Fox and Snake sat slightly further away, chatting. In a while, Fox yawned, reclining back on the rooftiles and staring into the sky, allowing his mind to drift and revisit times past.

---

_Fox reclined back on the large stone bench, making a mental note to himself to get Lucario to open up. Prodding him with questions about the Pokémon's mate backfired – it only got him into embarrassment when Lucario diverted the conversation to Krystal. He could have sworn he saw a smile linger on Lucario's lips when he threatened to ask Falco._

_That birdbrain would have spilled everything and then some, not to mention – no, Falco'd promised not to say anything! He wouldn't have dared, that flea-ridden crow…_

_Fox tried his best not to let anything show on his face, but evidently he failed, for the rare look of amusement on Lucario's broadened._

_The great leader of Star Fox was reduced to hastily changing the subject to Lucario's non-existent mate.__ Fox mentally patted himself on the back for successfully hijacking the conversation, launching into a full-out rant on how Lucario should find himself a mate. The Pokémon had an amused expression throughout – something rare, Fox mused – while Fox continued to expound on the beauty of love._

_In the middle__ of Fox laughing about Falco-Katt stories perpetuating amongst the Star Fox crew, Lucario interrupted his sentence about how everyone – wise-cracking falcons included – may just be able to find love._

That may be true, but my kind are not easily loved, _he observed. Fox waved a paw dismissively, slowly sitting upright._

"_You're kidding. Who wouldn't like you? Why wouldn't anyone like you? You're, uh, loyal…" Lucario tilted his head to one side, still staring at him, Fox stammering a little, trying to count off his paws. _"_And aw, come on, even Star Wolf members have their eyes on someone. You've got to –" Here Fox was interrupted when Lucario suddenly raised both his forepaws outstretched towards Fox._

Hug me.

_Fox froze in position__. _What? _he thought blankly, before his brain suddenly roared into action, processing what the Pokémon had just said. His still-open jaw dropped even further, and with it his eyes… which rested now on an uncomfortably large spike protruding out of Lucario's chest._

_Still staring at the spike, which now glinted dangerously in the soft summer light, Fox involuntarily shuffled back an inch._

_Lucario saw his eyes __focus on his chest-spike, and withdrew his hands, his lips twisting in a wry smile. _Does this answer your question, Fox-san?

_In any case, it ended well. __After some more teasing, him and Lucario managed to peacefully rest together, calmly discussing cloud shapes – the Pokémon seemed to have an secret knack for picking out shapes – before it started raining, the group of grumbling Smashers slowly trudging into the Mansion. Fox grinned inwardly. Lucario apparently wasn't as cold as he thought. He made a mental note to do this again next year._

_Next year never came._

_It was surprising that in a short span of a year, almost everything had changed. Falco was gone. So was Lucario. Zelda, Luigi, the Assists' Trainer… The most he could do now was to stare at a gravestone and imagine the smart-mouthed falcon was carelessly perched atop of it, nodding and cracking his bad jokes; or the Pokémon silently meditating in the corner, or – _

_Sometimes he could do it. Sometimes he couldn't. Today was one of those days he didn't even bother to pretend. Ignoring the blissful spring weather, the vulpine trudged over to a large tree behind the headstones, plopping down in its quiet shade. Sighing slightly, he allowed his eyes to travel across the morning sky._

_But today was a little different. Apparently, Pikachu had also taken it into his mind to visit the graves this morning, cuddling up next to the warm fox __in the crisp spring air. Fox was absentmindedly scratching Pikachu's head, both of them slowly descending into light sleep._

_A light wind__ kicked up, circling around the tree, causing the branches to sway a little in the breeze. The rustling of the leaves woke Fox up from his shut-eye, staring drowsily at the waving branches, while Pikachu stirred slightly but continued sleeping. _

_There was a soft snap, and something clattered past the leaves, landing with a soft _pat_ on Fox's lap. It took a second for the fox to respond but he slowly reached and picked it up, willing his mind to make sense of the image._

_It was a short twig with some round fruit on the end. Small tender leaves were present, along with small buds about the tips of the branches. The berries themselves were almost ripe, smelling a little sweet and very much like spring._

_Fox looked up into the tree, still sleepy and slightly confused. _Since when did we have an Oran berry tree here?...

---

Fox nodded absentmindedly, his paw lightly stroking Pikachu's head. In response, Pikachu rolled on his back, sitting upright. The Climbers huddled closer towards them, the Earthbound boys and Toon Link following suit.

They looked up into the wide sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Nana murmured. Popo nodded silently, setting his hammer on the roof beside him.

There were no stars around the Smash Mansion, in sharp contrast to the brilliance of space or the regions that most of Smashers were used to. The Mansion was surrounded by near pitch-black darkness after the end of day, only mere pinpricks of light coming from faraway stages.

Fox remembered Falco always ranting about how Lylat was so much better-looking, and what the heck was he even doing here, and how Peppy forgot his last paycheck; and the kid Smashers remembered how once Lucario described the remarkable sky in his world, sketching out non-existent constellations with his paw.

Even Toon Link remembered what Zelda had once said about stars; and how her attacks always reminded him of them. Even when he took her on in a Brawl, he'd still be mesmerized by the flashes of brilliance and the shining little diamonds which winked into existence at her every move. And of course, the Hylian princess wasn't one to complain, but he had seen her gazing wistfully into the Mansion's black night, as if something wasn't quite right.

However, after Tabuu's second attack, something had happened, drastically changing their view of the sky. It was now no longer completely dark, even though it was in the middle of the night, where the blackness should have been the most prevalent.

Fox sighed, scratching his head with a paw.

"They'd have loved this." The kids nodded a little, but remained silent; opting to enjoy the scenery that was laid out in front of them.

Master Hand had hung flares all about, in the same way that certain stages were suspended in space like the Smash Mansion. Just as the flares served as warnings, they served as lights, and the kid Smashers only needed to look out of their windows at night to see their pale, comforting light streaming through the glass.

Whatever provided the light about the Smash Mansion gradually dimmed or set, allowing the sky to fade from a pale orange to a deep blue, now shimmering with the new sources of light.

The Ice Climbers exhaled slowly, icy breath crystallizing in the cool night air. Small snowflakes danced about in the air, reflecting the light from the flares, and were caught up in the refreshing wind. Fractured reflections swirled about on the Mansion's Roof, twinkling and sparkling even as the snowflakes dissolved and disappeared.

To an outsider, the flares were nothing more than practical tools, used to illuminate and protect. However, to them, to the Smashers, they were more than that. They were reminders of the past, the faces of those no longer with them smiling; they were blazing lights lighting up the many, many paths of the future.

And they were also brilliant stars.

**End**

**---**

_Introduction  
Claustrophobia  
Checkmate  
__Days of Our Lives  
Remembrance  
__**Reflection**_


End file.
